The photograph is a powerful tool of memory used in relation to grief to provide a sense of those we have lost. However, the memory which uses the photograph as a trigger will fail to find a real trace of the deceased but instead will only find a shell. The photograph is a sign of mortality, whether or not those pictured still live or not. The dead remain dead. The photograph cannot return them to life.

My practice begins with the things that we hold dear in memory, things that become part of our experience and which we add to our family history. To that, I add the feelings of deep discomfort which surround death. Both sides of this divide are what make us human, shape our lived experiences and inform societal and cultural behaviours. I explore our relationship with death, not in the physical sense but as liminal space at or beyond the threshold of death. Things which are common to all, yet which society pushes away.

In my exploration of the liminal, I am experimenting with incorporating sound into my work as an added texture to supplement what we see in an attempt to summon a sense of our deepest fears somewhere between movement and stillness, truth and omission, and finally, acceptance. In addition to what we see, hear and can touch, there is a sense of space and time between my works. If I imagine a picture from my childhood and another of me today, these cannot summarise my being. The space between these two photographs is bursting with possibility and tragedy. This space fascinates me in my work.